


Mountainside

by jbarnes2494



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Cute, F/M, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Infertility, Jealousy, Mission Fic, Missions Gone Wrong, Oral Sex, Sad, Safehouses, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29229348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbarnes2494/pseuds/jbarnes2494
Summary: What happens when the quinjet goes down in the Austrian Alps and reader gets snowed in with Bucky at the safe house he brought her to in the mountains?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 197





	1. Chapter 1

“It’s not much farther,” Bucky urged as I stopped to clutch at a stitch in my side. Our quinjet had been shot down somewhere in the Allgӓu Alps in Austria by a HYDRA drone, and we had been wandering the snowy mountainside for what felt like hours now. The snow was deep, and with every step I took I sunk into it up to my knees. My left arm hung limply at my side, having been injured in the crash, and my legs burned from trudging through the deep snow. I had only been wearing my jumpsuit when we crashed, and although Bucky had insisted I take his jacket I was still chilled to the bone. My teeth chattered, my fingers and toes were numb, and my chest ached with every ragged breath I took as a result of the frigid air and my physical exhaustion.

“Easy for you to say,” I snapped weakly. “Your body can withstand a hell of a lot more than mine.”

“I offered to carry you.”

I shot him a disparaging look. “I may not be in great shape right now, but I still have my dignity.”

“Let me know what your dignity is worth when we reach the safehouse and you can’t even move because your legs are like lead,” Bucky replied with a shrug, and then he trudged ahead of me, leaving me to glare at his back as I mustered up the strength to keep going.

Truth be told, I was grateful that it had been Bucky on this mission with me. He was strong, smart, resourceful, calm in a crisis, and he knew this area well from when HYDRA still controlled him. If it wasn’t for him, even if I had managed to drag myself out of the wreckage of the jet, I would have had no idea how to navigate the mountain to get to the safehouse, let alone that there even was a safehouse nearby. So, despite how frustrating it was to see how easily he was handling this while I felt like death, I was glad to have him as a companion.

I almost cried in relief as we broke through the trees and the safehouse came into sight. It was just a small cabin nestled in the trees on the mountainside, but right now it offered a place to rest my aching body and warm up and it might as well have been a goddamn castle.

“Thank god,” I groaned, sinking to my knees in the snow. Bucky turned and cocked a dark eyebrow.

“You realize now you probably won’t be able to get back up, right?” he pointed out, and I shrugged.

“I don’t even care. We made it. I’ll crawl the rest of the way if I have to.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, and then he was slipping his hands under my arms – careful not to jostle the injured one – and hauled me back to my feet. “If you won’t let me carry you, at least let me help you,” he insisted. “Lean on my shoulder.”

Too tired to argue, I leaned heavily against Bucky’s side. His arm slipped around my waist, and truth be told he all but held me upright as we made our way to the cabin. He pressed a button at the door and then leaned in close to the speaker.

“Sergeant James Barnes,” he said in a clear, even voice, and then I heard a lock click. Bucky turned the knob and pulled me inside, stomping the snow off his boots on the mat. I tried to do the same, but as Bucky had predicted, my legs felt like lead. “Stay here,” he told me, and then he was grabbing a chair from the small kitchen table, setting it in front of me. He helped me sit before kneeling in front of me and lifting one of my feet to rest it on his knee.

“What are you doing?” I asked warily.

“Helping you. You can barely move, you’re so cold and stiff, and if you don’t get these boots off you’ll end up with frostbite.” His fingers were deft as they untied my laces, and then he gently took a hold of my calf and slid off one boot, then the other. Next, he peeled off my wet socks, and I felt my cheeks heat up as he examined my bare feet.

“The skin’s white – That’s an early stage of frostbite,” he said. “It won’t do damage, but it’ll be uncomfortable. I’m gonna start a fire before we do anything else so I can at least get you warmed up some.”

I watched as he stood and crossed the room to the small fireplace, arranging kindling and then logs expertly in the hearth. He lit a match, carefully lowering it to the kindling, and within a moment the fire was crackling. He came back over and helped me off the chair and over to the couch. The heat the little fire gave off was a relief after the biting cold of the mountain air, and I let out a soft sigh as I leaned towards the warmth.

“Not too close,” Bucky ordered, shoving me back into the couch gently but firmly. “If you warm up too fast it’ll put your body in shock. It has to be gradual.”

“But I’m _freezing_ ,” I whined.

“Taking off that wet jumpsuit would help.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “And do what, sit here in my underwear? I have nothing else to wear, Barnes.”

With a sigh, Bucky pulled the fleece sweater over his head, and then tugged off the blue Henley underneath as well. I coughed uncomfortably, shaking my head.

“If you think that you stripping down is going to make me want to –”

“The shirt is for you,” Bucky grumbled, tossing the Henley to me before pulling the sweater back over his head. “Put it on until I have time to search for more clothes.”

I blushed, caught off-guard as Bucky turned around so I could change. With clumsy fingers still numb with cold, I managed to pull down the zipper in the front of the jumpsuit and shrug the damp material from my shoulders. As soon as my skin was exposed to the air I shivered, and then quickly pulled Bucky’s Henley on over my head, wincing as I lifted my injured arm. The shirt was still warm from Bucky’s supersoldier body heat, and it smelled like mountain air, smoke, and the lingering scent of his body wash he’d used that morning. I pulled it tight around me briefly, grateful to be wrapped in something warm and dry and soft, and then stood and shimmied my legs out of the jumpsuit, letting it drop to the floor. Because Bucky was a good deal taller than me, the shirt fell to my mid-thigh, covering my underwear. Satisfied, I sank back down onto the couch, crossing my legs and shoving my hands under my arms to try and warm them.

“Okay, I’m decent,” I said wryly, and he turned back around. Something unreadable flashed through his eyes as he looked at me, but it was gone in an instant and then he was coming over to pick up my discarded jumpsuit and hang it over a chair by the fire to dry.

“Feel any better?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Bucky grunted his response, heading to the kitchen to rummage through the cupboards. He came back with a first aid kit, and sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. “Let me see your arm,” he said, and I frowned.

“It’s fine, it’s just a scratch –”

“(Y/N), you’ve been holding it weird and babying it ever since I pulled you out from the wreckage. It needs to be looked at, so _let me see it_.”

Something in his tone told me not to argue with him, and I held out my left arm so he could gently roll the sleeve of his Henley up to expose my bicep. He frowned, brows pulling together as he turned my arm over lightly to examine the extent of the damage.

“It’s not broken,” he finally said, “but it’s pretty badly bruised and that gash is going to need to be cleaned out and stitched up.” He pulled a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the box and soaked a wipe with it before meeting my eyes. “This is going to sting, are you ready?”

“I just survived a plane crash and a trek over a mountain,” I scoffed. “I think I can handle a little rubbing alcohol.”

Bucky shrugged, and then dabbed the wipe lightly over my wound. I clenched my teeth, hissing through them, and reflexively pulled my arm away from him. Bucky cocked a dark eyebrow, lips quirking up at the corners, and I glared at him.

“Not a word,” I grumbled. His eyes sparkled.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Mhmm.”

Once he was satisfied the wound was clean, he threaded a needle with the nylon thread in the first aid kit and then gave me an expectant look. “Are you going to be okay with the actual stitches?” he asked wryly, and I scowled.

“Just hurry up and get it over with, Barnes.”

Bucky was very meticulous as he stitched up my wound, almost professional in his movements. I wondered if he had learned this particular skill in the war, or if it was something he had picked up during his time with HYDRA. Or maybe it went back much further than that, to the days when Steve would pick fights with guys twice his size and instead of telling his parents he had to go to the doctor _again_ for stitches, Bucky learned to stitch him up himself. The thought had me struggling to suppress a grin, and Bucky looked up at me with a furrowed brow.

“Something funny?” he asked, and I shook my head.

“It’s nothing,” I replied, and he shook his head before continuing his work.

When Bucky finished, he cut the thread with his teeth and then wrapped a bandage around my bicep to cover the stitches. He sat back but narrowed his eyes as he looked at my face. “You got hit in the head,” he pointed out, lifting his flesh hand to run his fingertips just above my eyebrow. I winced; I hadn’t even known there’d been a cut there. “You could have a concussion,” Bucky continued. “Do you have a headache? Ringing in your ears? Blurry vision?”

I shook my head. “Bucky, I’m fine,” I insisted, slightly exasperated. “Contrary to what you may believe, this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve had plenty of field experience, and plenty of injuries to go with it. If I had a concussion, I would know what signs to be wary of.”

“Let me see your eyes,” he demanded, as if he hadn’t heard me. He held a little flashlight, and I sighed. He shone the flashlight in my eyes and then sat back as he clicked it off. “You’re not concussed.”

“Which is what I already told you.”

Bucky pursed his lips. “You may think I’m overreacting and being overbearing,” he said, “but if you had been in this game as long as I have, you’d understand why I’m being like this. Back in the war, as a sergeant I led a firearms team of four men. If one of those men got injured, even something seemingly minor, it not only hindered the whole team, but the injury could also progress into something worse depending on the conditions we were in.” He frowned. “I lost good men to things as mundane as a broken finger or a cut on their leg. So if I’m taking the time to make sure your injuries are taken care of, it’s because I’ve seen things go downhill fast and I’m trying to get out of the habit of losing teammates.”

I blinked, at a loss for words. To say Bucky and I didn’t speak would be a lie – We talked quite a bit, but it was usually about missions or things Bucky was still trying to learn about the twenty-first century, or Steve. He had never once talked about his time in the 107th. I could tell now why he hadn’t; his eyes were hard, but held a heavy sadness in their depths. I bit my lip.

“I’m sorry I’m being so difficult,” I said softly. “I think it’s just the whole situation, and because I’m the newest member of the team and still so young, everyone just assumes that I don’t know as much, or I can’t handle myself and need to be looked out for. I just want to prove that I’m just as capable as the rest of you.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “I have no doubt that you can take care of yourself, (Y/N), if need be,” he chuckled. “The point of being part of a team, though, is that you don’t have to. It’s great that you’re as independent as you are, but you don’t have to be.” He shook his head ruefully. “It took me a long time to relearn that after HYDRA.”

“Can I be honest about something?” I asked him, and he nodded.

“Of course.”

“When that quinjet went down, I…I was grateful that it was you with me,” I admitted, and then I realized how that sounded and my eyes widened. “I just mean…Out of all our teammates, you’re the best in situations like this, and if anyone was going to get us through this, it’d be you.”

This time, Bucky actually smiled. “Is that…is that a compliment? From _(Y/N)_? My god, did we actually die in that crash? Or has hell frozen over?”

I pursed my lips, but my grin couldn’t be concealed. “Yeah, yeah, soak it up,” I told him, “because it’s probably the only one you’re getting for awhile. They come in short supply.”

Bucky laughed. “I’ll take it. Now come here and let me clean that cut on your forehead.”

I leaned forward, and Bucky took an alcohol-soaked cotton ball and dabbed gently at the wound. I sucked in a sharp breath and his hand stilled, but I urged him to keep going. Once it was clean, he applied a butterfly bandage with a delicate touch that was unexpected for hands as large as his. His fingertips smoothed down the bandage and then he sat back.

“Your turn,” I said, and Bucky’s brow furrowed.

“What do you mean, I’m fine.”

“That huge gash along your cheekbone says otherwise.”

Bucky frowned. “I heal quickly; it’ll be gone by morning.”

“James.” My voice was stern as I used his real name. He pursed his lips, and I continued. “It’s been how long since the quinjet crashed, and the wound is still deep enough that your layer of soft tissue is exposed. Supersoldier healing or not, it needs to be cleaned and at least covered.” I shot him a wry look. “Teammates take care of each other, remember?”

“Ouch, using my own lessons against me,” he mocked, and I grinned before soaking a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol and scooting to the edge of the couch to get closer to him. I lifted my good arm to dab gingerly at the open flesh, and Bucky sat there, unflinching, his eyes focused on me the entire time. A butterfly bandage wouldn’t suffice for a gash like this, so I applied a larger bandage to cover it and keep any dirt out until it at least started to heal.

“There,” I murmured, sitting back, and Bucky grinned.

“I’m gonna go find you some clean clothes,” he said, “and then why don’t you have a hot shower while I go outside and bring in some more firewood before it gets dark. I don’t know how long we’ll be here and I don’t want us to run out of wood.”

He disappeared down the hall to what I assumed was the bedroom, and returned a minute later with a pile of neatly-folded clothes in his hands. “They’ll likely be a bit big,” he said as he handed them to me, “but they’ll work. The water’s on, so the shower’s good to go. If you need anything, I won’t be far – The woodpile is just out back on the treeline there.”

“Alright, thank you,” I said, and he nodded before pulling his jacket on and ducking out the door. Sighing, I pulled myself up off the couch. My legs were still stiff and sore from trudging through the deep snow, but at least now I could stand without feeling like I would topple over. I made my way down the narrow hallway, where I found a quaint little bathroom. I turned on the water as hot as I could stand it, and then stripped bare and stepped under the stream.

I immediately moaned as the heat from the water seeped through my skin to warm my cold, aching muscles and bones. I stood like that for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being enveloped in warmth, before I lathered shampoo into my hair to hopefully get the smell of smoke and jet fuel out of it. I scrubbed the blood and soot from my skin until it was pink, and then finally decided I should save some hot water for Bucky and dragged myself out of the shower reluctantly.

I wrapped a towel around my body as I wrung out my hair with another one. Upon examining the clothes Bucky had gotten me, I found a pair of black sweatpants and a wool sweater. I pulled on the sweatpants – They were too loose on my hips and a bit long, but I tied the drawstring tight and rolled up the cuffs and they were actually pretty comfy. I picked up the sweater, but then set it back down and opted to pull Bucky’s Henley back on instead.

When I came back out to the kitchen, Bucky was just coming through the door and stomping the snow off his boots, a sled piled high with firewood in tow. When he caught sight of me, the same unreadable look from before was crossing his face, but then he cocked an eyebrow.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” he asked. My cheeks heated, and I shrugged.

“Maybe.”

“Did I not give you a sweater to wear?”

“Yeah, but this one’s comfy,” I said sheepishly, and Bucky snorted.

“I know it’s comfy, it’s mine.” He shook his head. “I guess you can keep it for now.”

I grinned. “Good, because I didn’t plan on giving it back.”

Bucky let out a chuckle, and then started filling his arms with firewood to stack by the fireplace. I went to help him, but he shook his head. “No, I’ve got it,” he insisted. “You just showered, you don’t need to get dirt and sap all over yourself.”

“Bucky, let me help –”

“You’ll end up pulling your stitches if you do, (Y/N). Trust me, I’ve got it.”

I frowned, but I knew he was right. It didn’t take him long to pile it all, and then he was leaning the sled against the wall and stripping out of his jacket and boots.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” he told me. “The cupboards should be stocked with non-perishables; you should see if you can find us something to eat.”

“Anything in particular you _don’t_ like?” I asked, and Bucky fixed me with an unexpected grin.

“Doll, I survived how many years on army rations,” he chuckled. “I’ll eat just about anything.”

With that, he went to shower and I was left to rummage through the cupboards. I was surprised to see so much – Cans of soup, canned fruits and vegetables, boxes of cereal, pasta, and an array of spices and sauces. I opted for a box of spaghetti and a jar of tomato sauce; it would be warm and filling.

As I filled a pot with water to boil, my stomach growled; with everything that had happened today, I realized that I hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before. It wasn’t unusual to go a period of time without a meal on a mission, but after that trek from the quinjet to the cabin I was famished.

Bucky walked into the kitchen just as I was mixing the sauce into the pasta. His wet hair was messy, as if he’d just run his hands through it, and he’d thrown on a plain black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He lifted his nose to sniff the air.

“Smells good,” he remarked. “Spaghetti?”

“Yep.”

“When will it be ready?”

“Now,” I replied, dishing it onto two plates and handing him one. We sat down at the table with our food and a couple of bottles of water I’d found in the fridge, and I couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled from my chest. Bucky cocked an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, and I shrugged.

“I don’t know, this just feels so…domestic,” I pointed out. “You making a fire and bringing in more wood, me cooking us dinner, sitting here and eating together…”

“It’s nice,” Bucky murmured. “Everything is always so fast-paced and intense; this is a nice break.”

“Except that our jet was shot down and we’re stranded,” I said wryly, and Bucky shrugged.

“There are worse places to be.” He looked up over a forkful of spaghetti and grinned. “And worse company to be stuck with.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I chuckled, and Bucky nodded as he chewed.

“You should. For instance, if I had been stranded with Sam, I would have buried him under six feet of snow and ice by now.”

I laughed. “Why is it you two are always at each other?” I asked, and Bucky shrugged.

“Sam’s a good guy. He just gets on my nerves easily.”

“Clearly.”

We finished the rest of our dinner in comfortable silence, and then cleared the dishes. Bucky even helped me clean up the kitchen, and then I curled up in the armchair by the fireplace with a thick blanket while Bucky sank into the couch and pulled out his phone.

“I suppose now that we’re settled in, I should let Steve know what happened,” he said. He put the phone on speaker and then set it on the coffee table. It only rang once before Steve answered.

“Hello? Bucky? Is everything alright? Why are you using your cell phone, what’s wrong with your comms?”

“The comms are down, Steve,” Bucky said calmly.

“Down? Why are they down?” he demanded, and Bucky and I shared a look; Steve was going to lose it when he found out our quinjet had been shot down.

“See, that’s the thing,” Bucky said cautiously. “We may have a little problem.”

Steve’s voice was stern now. “Define _little_.”

“We were on our way to Russia when we were spotted by a HYDRA drone and they shot us out of the sky,” Bucky told him. There was silence on the other line for a split second before Steve erupted.

“What? How did that happen? Are you and (Y/N) alright? Where are you? How long ago did this happen? _Why didn’t you call right away_?”

“Steve…Steve!” Bucky cried, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing as Steve went full Dad mode, as Sam and I often called it. “I don’t know how they found us,” Bucky continued once Steve had ceased firing concerned questions. “(Y/N) and I are fine, just some cuts and bruises. The quinjet went down in the Allgӓu Alps in Austria, but we walked to a safehouse that was only about an hour away from the crash site. I didn’t call right away because we had to get to safety before HYDRA realized we’d survived, and then we wanted to warm up and patch up our injuries and settle in before we did anything else.”

“So you’re in Austria?” Steve asked.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know we had a safehouse in the mountains in Austria.”

“Natasha knows about it,” Bucky said. “She’ll know how to get here.”

For some reason, this made me frown. I found it strange that the only two people on the team that knew about this safehouse were Bucky and Natasha. Sam used to joke that they were perfect for each other, since they were both ex-assassins with rough pasts and secretive personalities. They had both sworn they weren’t each other’s type, but maybe that wasn’t entirely true. My mind was suddenly filled with the idea that they had been here together before, and for some reason it left a sour taste in my mouth.

“Steve, when can you get us out of here?” I asked.

“Well…I might have some bad news for you guys,” he said, and my brow furrowed.

“What kind of bad news?”

“Nat just gave us the coordinates to the safehouse, and for starters, the closest place we could land a quinjet or even a helicopter is about six miles to the east.”

I sighed. The last thing I wanted was another hike across a snowy mountain, but if it meant I got to go home I could handle it.

“Okay, no biggie. So what’s the problem?”

Steve sighed. “Tony just checked the weather. There’s a big storm coming your way – Supposed to be the biggest blizzard Austria has seen in almost a decade. Even if we left New York right now, we’d never make it to you before the winds picked up. We won’t be able to fly out until the storm has passed, probably in a couple of days. I’m sorry, guys.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. I shook my head. “Steve, no –”

“Two days is fine,” Bucky interrupted as he spoke to Steve. “We’ve got plenty of firewood, and enough food to last probably two weeks. Take your time, Steve, we’re alright here for a few days. Don’t risk your lives when we’re safe where we’re at.”

“Speak for yourself,” I muttered under my breath, but of course Bucky’s supersoldier hearing caught it. A mixture of surprise, confusion and hurt crossed his face.

“Half an hour ago you were content,” he said. “What changed?”

My face heated, because I didn’t have an answer for him that didn’t sound ridiculous. I wasn’t even really sure what my problem was. I shook my head. “Nothing,” I told him, and then louder to Steve I said, “We’ll survive a couple of days, Steve. Be careful, but come as soon as it’s safe.”

“Hang in there,” he replied. “Hopefully the storm won’t last long and we can get you out of there.”

Bucky hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. Things were silent for a few moments, but then he fixed me with an inquiring look. 

“What was that about?” he asked. I frowned, feigning confusion.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, (Y/N). Why are you so eager to get out of here?”

“I don’t know, Barnes; maybe after getting shot down out of the sky and trekking through a cold mountain, I just want to get home,” I snapped, a little harsher than I had intended. Bucky pursed his lips.

“Soon enough,” he muttered. “We should get some rest; it’s been a long day. You take the bed; I’ll sleep on the couch.”

I shook my head, suddenly feeling guilty. “Buck, you don’t have to sleep on the couch –”

“There’s only one bed, (Y/N). Just take it. I’ll be fine on the couch; that way I can keep the fire going all night.”

I bit my lip, but there was no use in arguing with him at this point. With a sigh, I unfolded my legs from under me and stood. “Goodnight,” I mumbled, and Bucky grunted a response. Frowning, I made my way down the hall to the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

I pulled back the covers and climbed in, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable the mattress was. The exhaustion of the day finally crashed over me, and all the thoughts of Bucky and being stuck in this cabin disappeared when my head hit the pillow and I fell asleep almost immediately.

Of course, my sleep was short-lived. I woke up an hour later, freezing despite still being fully-clothed and curled up under two layers of covers. I tried to pull the blankets tighter to myself and go back to sleep, but it was no use; the chill had already settled itself in me and wasn’t going to let go of me that easily.

With a groan, I forced myself out of the bed, swearing softly when my bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor. I padded my way down the hall to the living room to grab the blanket I’d been using earlier, to use as an extra layer of insulation between me and the chilly air.

Bucky was asleep when I walked in. Although it was a fairly big couch, his large frame still managed to make it look small. His head was pillowed on one of the decorative cushions, while the other cushion he held to his chest. His mouth was slightly ajar, soft breaths sounding with every rise and fall of his chest. I realized I had never seen him look so peaceful – so vulnerable and at ease. It almost made him look younger, the lines in his face erased in slumber. The fire, which now burned low in the hearth, left a warm glow across his face, casting shadows where his long lashes dusted his cheekbones, and I couldn’t help but think that he looked heartachingly beautiful like this.

I quickly tore my eyes away. This felt oddly wrong, almost like I was intruding on a private moment. He was only sleeping, but Bucky was such a reserved person that to see him in such a vulnerable state felt intrusive. I grabbed the blanket from the armchair and was just about to head back to the bedroom when Bucky spoke, making me start as the blanket slipped from my hands to the floor.

“Stealing blankets, are you,” he murmured, tone teasing and voice thick with sleep. He had just one eye open, peeking up at me. I wet my lips and shrugged.

“You weren’t using it, and I’m frozen,” I replied. “It’s a lot colder in the bedroom than it is out here, so I figured I’d grab an extra blanket to see if it helped.”

Bucky frowned, fully awake now, and he sat up. “You’re cold?” he asked, and I nodded.

“It’s fine, though. I’m sure the blanket will help.”

“Did you want to sleep by the fire? It’s warm out here,” Bucky insisted. “You can bring some blankets and pillows out here; it’s a pretty comfy couch. I’m warm anyway, so a cool room won’t bother me.”

I shook my head. “Really, it’s okay,” I insisted. “I’m sure I’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” Bucky murmured, although he looked doubtful. I gave him a small smile before heading back to the bedroom.

Incidentally, the extra blanket didn’t work. I shifted, even curling my body up tightly, but I still couldn’t shake the chill that had settled in my bones. I knew what the quickest and most effective solution would be, but even if I could bring myself to suggest it, there was a good chance it would either make Bucky uncomfortable or he’d laugh in my face.

“ _Fuck it_ ,” I muttered to myself, throwing off the covers and once again sliding out of bed. I was just about to make my way back to the living room, but when I opened the bedroom door Bucky was already there, hand raised as if ready to knock. He gave me a sheepish look as he lowered it back to his side.

“I heard you tossing and turning,” he explained softly. “You still cold?”

I nodded meekly. “Yeah.”

“Y’know, I was thinking,” Bucky said hesitantly, running a hand through his hair. “Because my body temperature is higher than the average person’s, it kind of acts like a heater. If you want – and you can absolutely say no if you don’t want to, I’ll totally understand – I…I can keep you warm.”

Bucky looked at me cautiously, and it took everything in me not to nod eagerly because this couldn’t have worked out more to my favour. I knew it was hard for him to be open like this, and to let people close; just a handful of months ago, he didn’t even like handshakes. Instead, I wordlessly opened the door wide enough for him to fit through and stepped aside.

Bucky walked into the room, hands awkwardly shoved into his pockets as I crawled back into bed. I arched a brow at him.

“I won’t bite,” I promised teasingly, and the ghost of a grin tugged at his lips as he slid into bed next to me.

I rolled onto my side, and I felt the mattress shift as Bucky got comfortable and pulled the covers up over us. Tentative, he draped his flesh arm over my waist.

“Is this okay?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Instinctively, my body scooted backwards closer to his – closer to the warmth he was radiating. “Mmm,” I hummed contentedly as I felt my own body slowly warming. Relaxing, Bucky’s arm tightened around my waist, hugging me tighter to him as my back pressed to his chest.

“Get some sleep, doll,” he murmured. My eyes were already drifting shut, and all I could manage was another hum before I was out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will sharing a bed change things?

I awoke the next morning feeling as if I was wrapped in a warm cocoon. Bucky’s body was curled almost protectively around me, arm still secure around my waist. I could feel his warm, slow breaths on the back of my neck, and his Henley had ridden up my body so that his large, warm hand was pressed directly to the exposed flesh of my belly. My cheeks flushed and I tried to move, but his grasp tightened and pulled me even closer to him. He let out a soft groan, that had my entire body heated.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled, voice hoarse and low with sleep, and I bit my lip.

“I was gonna get up.”

“Listen.”

I wrinkled my nose. “What?”

“ _Listen_ ,” he repeated, and I did. Outside the cabin the wind was howling, whipping through the trees and rattling the windowpanes. Once he was satisfied I’d heard what he wanted me to hear, he continued. “The storm started three hours ago; the snow’s likely to be heavy by now, and the power went out over an hour ago. Why rush to get out of bed? It’s not like there’s anything for us to do but sit and wait for the snow to stop so the team can come get us.”

“The power went out?” Sure enough, a glance at the black screen of the digital clock on the nightstand told me as much. I frowned, rolling onto my back. Bucky made no move to lift his arm, his hand still pleasantly warm on my stomach. When I turned my head to the side to look at him, he was also frowning, but his eyes were soft.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Very well,” I admitted, and a small smile touched his lips.

“Me too.”

My heart fluttered in spite of myself, and I tilted my head back to stare at the ceiling, focusing on keeping my breaths calm and even. Things were silent for a moment, and then Bucky spoke again.

“Last night, on the phone with Steve…” he started. “Are you really that upset about being stuck here? Because at dinner you seemed to agree that it was kind of nice.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling my face redden. I hesitated before answering. “I’m not upset,” I finally said. “It is kind of nice being here. It’s just…”

“Just what?” Bucky prodded. I could feel his blue eyes watching me intensely, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I was sure my face was as red as a tomato at this point. I took a deep breath, figuring it was better to be honest than try and come up with a story.

“When you said Natasha knows about this place – Have you…have you been here together?”

I felt stupid and pathetic as soon as the words came out of my mouth, but I had to know. It had been nagging me since yesterday evening. I peeked over at Bucky; his brow furrowed.

“No. This place used to belong to her sister, Yelena,” he explained. “I was on mission here in Austria last year and needed a place to lay low. Natasha suggested I stay at the cabin.” Bucky looked over to me, one dark eyebrow cocked. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” I mumbled. His words had eased the storm in me, and now I just wanted to drop it. Bucky, however, had other plans.

“Seriously, (Y/N), why do you ask?” he repeated, and then a slow grin spread over his face. “You were jealous!”

My face went white. “I was not!” I cried, my answer both too quick and too defensive to pass as the truth. Bucky’s grin was wicked as he sat up to lean on his elbow, the hand he still had on me pinching my side playfully. I squeaked and rolled away from him, and I would have rolled right off the bed had Bucky not caught me and pulled me back to him so that we were face-to-face. He was still grinning but it was warmer, eyes soft.

“You have nothing to be jealous of,” he chuckled. “Nothing has ever happened between Natasha and I, and nothing ever will.”

“I’m not jealous,” I grumbled, and Bucky smirked.

“Of course you’re not, doll,” he replied, and then he rolled away from me to stretch his arms above his head with a tired groan. “Well, since we’re awake, how about some coffee?”

“The power’s out,” I reminded him, and he snorted.

“You never heat a kettle over a fire, doll?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were such a princess.”

With a mischievous grin, he rolled off the bed out of my reach before I could hit him. I threw a pillow at him, but he caught it one-handed and laughed.

“Easy, doll,” he chuckled. “You’re gonna pull your stitches if you get too wound up.”

Now that I was awake and sitting up, the aches and pains in my body were starting to resurface. My muscles were stiff and my arm was stinging, and I scrunched my nose. Seeing the change in my demeanour, Bucky slid open the drawer of the nightstand and dropped a bottle of Advil into my hand.

“Here, this’ll help,” he said. “I’ll go get the coffee started.”

I shook a couple of pills from the bottle and tipped my head back to swallow them. I leaned back against the headboard with a sigh, and then forced myself out of bed to follow Bucky to the kitchen.

Bucky was stoking the fire when I walked in. I went right to the window to assess how bad the storm was. The snow had already drifted against the side of the cabin, almost reaching the bottom of the window. The wind was relentless, swaying trees and whipping snow in every direction so it was hard to see anything but white. I pulled away from the window, just as Bucky set a couple of mugs on the counter and spooned some instant coffee into each of them.

“Steve wasn’t kidding about it being a bad storm,” I mused, and Bucky shook his head.

“This is just the beginning, too. It’s going to get much worse.”

The kettle started boiling, and Bucky grabbed it and brought it back to the counter, filling the mugs with the steaming water. He stirred two spoonfuls of sugar into mine, just the way I liked it, and then slid it across the counter to me.

“Thanks,” I murmured, letting the heated ceramic warm my hands. We sipped our coffee in silence for a few moments, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the howling wind outside. It really was peaceful here, and I admitted as much.

“Yeah, it’s the kind of place you go when you want to get away,” he murmured, eyes fixed on the window over my shoulder. He met my gaze, a sad smile on his face. “Sometimes it’s too much, y’know? I mean, I know I’ve been living in the twenty-first century long enough now that I should be used to it, but I grew up in the thirties – We didn’t have cell phones, or computers, or the internet, or even a fraction of today’s technology. We didn’t feel the need to constantly know what’s happening in everyone’s lives, and we weren’t able to be reached by the single press of a button. Things were simpler…quieter. Being here reminds me of that.”

A smile tugged at my lips, and Bucky’s brow furrowed.

“What?” he asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I like it when you talk about yourself,” I told him. “Especially when you talk about your life before the war.”

Bucky snorted, but his cheeks were tinted pink. “Most people hate listening to old men ramble,” he pointed out, and I shook my head with a chuckle.

“You aren’t a typical old man,” I said. “And besides, it’s very rare to get any stories out of you. So when you do open up, it’s nice. It’s like getting to see a glimpse into the elusive mind of Bucky Barnes.”

Suddenly Bucky frowned, eyes casting down to stare at the mug in his hands. “You wouldn’t think it was so nice if you got more than a glimpse,” he mumbled. “I don’t open up because no one wants to see what’s underneath. The surface is safe, but anything deeper and you’re approaching dangerous territory.”

I pursed my lips; he looked so sullen. I reached across the counter to slip my hand over top of his, and he looked startled but he didn’t pull away. “The right person won’t be scared,” I murmured, and he shook his head.

“They should be. Most people are.”

“But not everyone.” I bit my lip, and Bucky swallowed hard as he held my eyes. The air was suddenly heavy, but the sound of a giant crack outside had us jumping. Bucky had rounded the island in a second, placing himself between the door and me. “What was that?” I asked warily.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I should go outside and check it out, though.”

My eyes widened. “Are you insane? It’s snowmageddon out there!” I cried. “Buck, you can’t go out there.”

“If there’s something out there, I have to take care of it,” he said, having made up his mind. He was already pulling on his boots. “Stay here. Lock the door behind me, and keep your gun close just in case. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He zipped up his jacket and grabbed his pistol, and I frowned.

“Buck…? Be careful,” I said softly, and an unexpected grin flashed across his face.

“I’m always careful, doll,” he said, and then he pulled open the door. The wind blew flurries into the cabin, and Bucky turned to wink at me before he disappeared out into the blizzard.

I did as he said, locking the door behind him before grabbing my pistol from the shelf by the door. I tapped the grip with my fingertips restlessly, pacing the kitchen, my coffee forgotten. I couldn’t imagine anyone being out in this blizzard, but what if they were? What if HYDRA had found us, and Bucky was out in that storm trying to fight them off? Surely I would have heard gunfire by now if that were the case, though…

Minutes passed that felt like hours, and then there was someone pounding on the wooden door. I held my pistol, ready to aim just in case, and cautiously walked over to the door.

“(Y/N), it’s me!” Bucky shouted, pounding again. I could barely hear him over the roaring of the wind, but I quickly unlocked the door and wrenched it open, to reveal a very cold-looking Bucky. I stepped aside so he could come in, and then I was dusting the snow off his shoulders.

“So what was the noise?” I asked, and he frowned.

“The wind snapped a bough off one of the pine trees,” he replied as he shrugged out of his jacket. I took it and hung it off a hook.

“We aren’t going to have any trees coming down on the cabin, are we?” I asked. Bucky shook his head, snow falling to the floor.

“No, we’re safe in here.” He toed off his boots. “It’s wild out there. I haven’t seen a storm like this since my time in Siberia.”

His cheeks were ruddy from the cold, and ice crystals had accumulated on his eyelashes like tiny diamonds. His jacket had done little to protect him from the snow, as his shirt was as soaked as his pants.

“You’re covered in snow,” I griped. “Go change into some dry clothes. I’ll make some fresh coffee to warm you up.”

Bucky shot me a grateful look before heading to the bedroom. I heated the kettle back up over the fire and then poured two fresh cups of coffee. I handed Bucky his as he came back out to the kitchen.

“Thanks, doll,” he murmured. “At this rate, the snow’s gonna be halfway up the cabin before nightfall.”

“I’m just glad winters in New York aren’t like this,” I breathed. “God, can you imagine having to dig your way out every time it snows?”

Bucky nodded in agreement. “I don’t mind a little snow here and there, but I’ve spent enough time in Austria and Russia during the winter to last me a hundred lifetimes.”

I grinned. “Who’d have thought that the Winter Soldier would hate winter.” I teased, and he shrugged.

“You spend enough time living in the snow and ice and cold, with very little sunshine, and you’d hate it too.”

“That must be why you liked Wakanda so much.”

Bucky took a sip of his coffee. “I liked Wakanda mostly for the same reason I like it here – Things were simpler,” he said. “The city may be the most technologically-advanced in the world, but it’s surrounded by miles of farmland and plains. T’Challa let me live just outside the city, in my own little hut, and I farmed the land. I may have grown up in New York City, but farming in Wakanda and having no cares in the world was an absolute blessing.”

“It sounds perfect,” I admitted. “I’ve always wanted to see Wakanda; I’ve never been.”

“I’ll tell you what; I’ll take you with me the next time I go,” Bucky told me. “How’s that sound?”

“You’d do that?” I breathed, and Bucky nodded.

“Sure. You’ll love it. And I know you and Shuri would get along great.”

I grinned into my mug, cheeks pink. I couldn’t believe Bucky and I were making plans to travel together.

As the day wore on, the blizzard only got worse. The snow was already partly covering the windows, and I was thankful that I wasn’t claustrophobic. A quick search of the cabin revealed there wasn’t much to do here; Bucky redressed my arm with a new bandage, and then we heated some canned soup over the fire for lunch. I had found an old copy of Bram Stoker’s _Dracula_ and had laid back on the couch to read it despite having already read it twice before, just to give me something to do. Bucky had sat on the floor, leaning against the armchair, with a piece of firewood and one of his knives. He had been whittling at the piece of wood for half an hour now, and I looked up from my book with a scrunched nose.

“What is it you’re making, anyway?” I asked. “Other than a mess of wood shavings, that is.”

Bucky looked up from what he was doing to give me a disparaging look. “You’ll see when it’s finished,” he replied, and I rolled my eyes dramatically.

“ _Fine_ ,” I sighed, dragging out the word. “Where did you learn to do that, anyway?”

“My grandfather,” he replied. “He taught me when I was a kid. He used to make beautiful carvings, some as tall as me.” He grinned ruefully. “My knife skills have improved over the years – I was certainly no professional when I was younger.”

Seeing Bucky reminisce had quickly become one of my favourite things. I smiled. “Well I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve made.”

It was another hour before Bucky finally set down his knife on the coffee table. I looked up from my book, curiosity winning over as I set the book on the table, and sat up straight. Almost hesitantly, Bucky set the little wooden figure in my hand. It was a little wolf, head raised in a howl. The details were intricate, right down to the fur patterns and the tiny teeth. My eyes widened in awe, and I shook my head as I met Bucky’s gaze.

“Bucky…” I breathed. “This is…this is beautiful. You’re so talented! How did I not know you were so talented?”

“It’s not something I go around advertising,” he mumbled, cheeks pink and expression bashful.

“Jesus, you and Steve never cease to amaze,” I said. “Steve with his drawing, and you with _this_. Wow. Shit. And here I thought Steve was the artistic one.”

“Steve _is_ the artistic one,” Bucky told me. “He’s the one who took art classes in school. I focused more on baseball and boxing. This was just more of a hobby that I kept to myself.”

“Well you’re clearly more than meets the eye, Bucky Barnes,” I murmured, turning the wolf over in my hands in wonder. “This is amazing.”

“Keep it,” he said, and my eyes rounded.

“What?”

“Keep it,” he repeated with a shrug. “I want you to have it.” 

“Thank you,” I breathed sincerely as I ran my fingertips over the surface. I looked up at Bucky with one eyebrow arched. “Just out of curiosity, why a wolf?”

Bucky’s lips quirked up, and his eyes glittered. “Back in Wakanda, the kids used to call me ‘Ingcuka Emhlophe’,” he explained, a fond expression on his face. “It means ‘White Wolf.’ I liked it a lot better than being referred to as ‘The Soldier’ or ‘The White Boy,’ so I never stopped the Wakandans from calling me White Wolf.”

“White Wolf?” I chuckled. “Because you were the only white guy in Wakanda?” 

“Something like that,” he admitted with a small smile.

I grinned. “I like it. It suits you.” I looked down at the carved figurine again. “I really do love this, too. It’s like I’ll always have a little part of the White Wolf with me.”

A childlike grin took over Bucky’s face at my words, and he nodded. “Exactly,” he murmured, and in that moment, a bond was created between Bucky and I.

The temperature dropped when the sun went down, and the wind and snow hadn’t let up. We’d lit candles all over the cabin, both as a source of light and extra heat, and despite the storm raging outside it made the cabin feel pleasantly cozy.

“It feels like we should have a Christmas tree,” I murmured. “With the candles and the fire, it would be completely cozy.”

Bucky chuckled. “I could go out there and cut a tree down for you, doll, but we’d have nothing to decorate it with.”

“I love how you aren’t questioning why I’d want a Christmas tree in February.”

“Who _wouldn’t_ want a Christmas tree in February?” Bucky replied. “Hell, Christmas year ‘round is something I could get behind.”

“So, Bucky Barnes loves Christmas,” I mused. “Add that to the mental file of things I’ve learned about you since getting stranded here.”

“We stay here any longer and you’ll officially know more about me than anyone but Steve,” he snorted, and I laughed.

“I think I already have that in the bag. For instance, how many people can say they know you’re a cuddler?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “The hell I am –”

“You were snuggled right up to me all night, Barnes; don’t try to deny it.”

“I was keeping you _warm_ ,” he protested, and I smirked.

“And after I’d woken up and you held me tighter like you didn’t want me to get up?”

Bucky flushed crimson. “Tell _anyone_ and I will make sure you get put on all the bullshit missions,” he mumbled, and I giggled.

“It was cute,” I assured him. “I wish more people knew _that_ Bucky, instead of the tough and stoic Bucky you show the world.” My face softened. “I wish I knew that Bucky better. He might just be one of my new favourite people.”

“That Bucky doesn’t come out very often,” Bucky said, ducking his head. “Besides, he’s too soft. You can’t be soft in this line of business.”

I shook my head. “You’re always in a work frame of mind,” I accused. “Doesn’t it get exhausting?”

“Why do you think I was okay with being stranded here?”

We were silent for a minute, and then I bumped his arm playfully with mine. “Enough serious talk,” I said. “Come sit by the fire with me. I’m starting to get chilled.”

Bucky grinned and followed me to the living room. I took the fur blanket from the back of the couch and spread it over the hardwood floor in front of the hearth and settled onto it, my back leaning against the coffee table. Bucky settled down next to me, pulling a brown bottle from under the table.

“Look what I found earlier,” he said, holding it out to me. It was whiskey. I took the bottle from him with an eyebrow arched.

“You can’t even get drunk,” I pointed out, and he shrugged.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it. It’s single-barrel and aged twelve years. This is top-shelf whiskey,” Bucky replied. “Open it and tell me it’s not smooth as hell.”

Tentatively, I unscrewed the cap and took a mouthful. It was strong but smooth, warming my belly almost immediately. I grinned as I handed the bottle back to Bucky. “It is pretty good,” I admitted. He took a swig and nodded.

We each downed another mouthful, and then Bucky turned his head to look at me with his head slightly cocked to the side. “You’ve gotten to learn a bunch about me,” he said, “but I want to hear about you. Tell me something about (Y/N) (Y/L/N) that no one knows.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’m an open book.”

“Then you’ll have no trouble with this. C’mon, (Y/N), there must be something no one knows about you. Let’s hear it.”

Biting my lip, I gazed at the fire. I wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey buzzing in my veins or just how at-ease I felt right now, but when I opened my mouth the words came spilling out.

“I got married, when I was seventeen,” I admitted quietly, and Bucky’s eyes rounded. “When…when I was sixteen, I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. They caught it early enough that they could treat it with chemo, and we thought it had worked. But then it came back, and I got really sick really fast. My boyfriend at the time – Adam – was scared I wasn’t going to make it through the second round of chemo. We had made plans to go to Columbia together to study law.” I shook my head, sad smile on my face. “We were young and we thought we were in love, so we wanted to be married before…well, before I died.”

Bucky was looking at me with a mixture of shock, horror and respect. He shook his head, jaw agape. “(Y/N), I didn’t…I had no idea,” he breathed, and I chuckled.

“No one on the team knows,” I replied. “The only people that know are my family, and Adam and his family.”

“But you’re healthy now?” he asked, worry creasing his brow. I nodded.

“They ended up having to remove my ovaries because the chemo wasn’t working the second time, and they took out my uterus too, just to be safe. I still have check-ups every year to be safe, but I’ve been cancer-free ever since.”

“And…your marriage…” Bucky shifted uncomfortably. “Are you still…?”

“God, no,” I snorted. “As soon as it was clear that I was going to make a full recovery, Adam realized that seventeen was way too young to be married. He wanted to be able to explore his options at Columbia – That’s what he told me. ‘And besides,’ he’d said, ‘I eventually want to have kids someday, and you can’t give me that.’”

Even now, saying it left a bitter taste in my mouth. I scowled, taking a large swig of the whiskey. Bucky frowned.

“What is he doing now?”

The question caught me off-guard. “He’s a divorce lawyer in Manhattan, ironically enough,” I replied, and Bucky snorted.

“So he’ll be easy to find, then,” he said, and I eyed him skeptically.

“Why would that matter?”

“Because the Winter Soldier just might pay him a visit when we get back to New York.”

My eyes widened, and I leapt up onto my knees and shook my head vigorously. “Bucky, no,” I said. “Don’t you dare.”

“Relax, I was only gonna threaten him. Maybe rough him up a bit, y’know, scare him –”

“ _No_. It was fourteen years ago, it’s in the past.” I grinned. “Besides, that asshole actually did me a favour – imagine if we were still married. I’d be absolutely miserable, in a loveless marriage and likely working as an underpaid lawyer. I would have never met Tony, or become an Avenger. And I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now. So even though at the time Adam broke my heart, now I’m grateful for what he did.”

“I still think he deserves to have his ass kicked,” Bucky grumbled. He met my eyes, his gaze fierce but soft. “I underestimated you, (Y/N),” he murmured apologetically. “I knew you were tough, but…To go through what you did at such a young age, and then to have the one person you thought had your back abandon you like that, for _selfish_ reasons…”

He shook his head, disgusted, and I chuckled. “Everything happens for a reason,” I said. “Honestly, the hardest thing to move on from out of the whole situation wasn’t the cancer or the divorce from Adam; it’s the knowledge that I will never be able to have children of my own.”

I glanced down at my hands, suddenly sad. Bucky had urged me to open up, and now that I had started, I couldn’t stop. I bit my lip to keep it from quivering.

“(Y/N), hey,” Bucky murmured, and then he was kneeling in front of me and taking a gentle hold of my chin to lift my gaze to his. He was frowning, but his eyes were soft. “Wanna know something else about me that no one knows?”

My lips twitched. “Another Bucky Barnes tidbit? Of course.”

Bucky’s smile was sad. “I can’t have kids either,” he told me. “After all the experimentation HYDRA did on me to try and copy the serum Irskine created for Steve, it…messed with things. At first it was just a suspicion, but…When I started getting my life back on track, I wanted to know for sure. I got them to run tests while I was in Wakanda, and the results confirmed my suspicions; the experiments had made me sterile.”

My heart sank, and I felt tears spring to my eyes. “Oh, Bucky…” I whispered, and then before I knew what I was doing I had thrown my arms around him and pressed my face to his chest. I had startled him; I could feel it in the way his body tensed. But then his arms wound around me and he smoothed my hair with a large hand.

“It’s funny,” he murmured, “how you never really realize you want something until you’re told you can’t have it. Steve was always the one who dreamed about settling down and having kids; I was always wanting to travel and see the world. But after everything I’ve been through, settling down with a family sounded nice. Of course, life had other plans.”

“You deserve so much more than life has given you,” I sniffed, pulling away from him. He reached up to brush his thumb across my cheekbone, catching a stray tear that had escaped, and smiled sadly.

“So do you, doll,” he murmured. “You’re an incredible woman – Kind, strong, smart, beautiful…Anyone that doesn’t see that is an idiot.”

My heart fluttered against my ribcage, and I bit my lip. His mouth was close enough that if I just tilted my head and leaned in…

_No_. I pulled back, and lifted the bottle of whiskey to my lips to down a large mouthful. That was a bad idea; a very bad idea. It was just the candles and the fire and the alcohol and the situation – I didn’t really want Bucky. Did I?

I cleared my throat. “I must be surrounded by idiots, then,” I joked, to ease the tension in the room. Bucky chuckled and settled back into the spot next to me.

“Men are dumb,” he said simply. “They were dumb a hundred years ago, and they’re dumb now. The only thing that’s changed is that now they have more ways to be dumb.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Are you speaking from experience?” I asked, and he shot me a rueful grin.

“I’ve done my fair share of dumb things when it comes to women,” he admitted. “My mother raised me to be a gentleman, and I had sisters so I knew how to act around girls. But sometimes none of that mattered and I still did something stupid to ruin things.” He shrugged. “No one is perfect, I guess.”

“I don’t know…From what Steve has said, you were pretty smooth with the ladies in your day,” I teased, and Bucky snorted.

“I could have gone on one date with one girl and Steve would have thought I was Casanova,” he deadpanned. “The poor kid couldn’t even talk to a dame without damn near having an asthma attack.”

The laughter bubbled from my chest before I could stop it. Bucky grinned, and I shook my head as I struggled to compose myself.

“Tell me Steve was wrong, though,” I insisted after a minute. “Tell me you weren’t the ladies’ man he makes you out to be.”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed, and he pursed his lips. “I’ve been with my fair share of girls,” he admitted with a shrug, and I nodded.

“I figured as much.”

“ _But_ ,” he continued, “I was always good to them. I never treated them as objects, and things always ended on good terms. My mama raised me well.”

“I never suggested any different,” I told him, and his brow furrowed.

“Then why does it matter how many girls I’ve been with?”

“It doesn’t; I was just curious to see if Steve’s stories were true.”

Bucky was silent for a moment, and then he turned his head to the side to look at me. “(Y/N), can I ask you a question?”

I hesitated. “If you’re asking how many guys I’ve been with, a lady never tells,” I joked, trying once again to ease the tension in the air. Bucky’s lips twitched, but he shook his head.

“No, not that,” he said. He wet his lips before continuing. “Did it actually bother you to think Natasha and I had been here together?”

My stomach was in my throat. Bucky’s eyes searched mine, and I couldn’t pull my gaze away as I swallowed nervously. I couldn’t lie, though; the alcohol had my wits dulled, and he would detect a lie as soon as it came out of my mouth. Finally, I shrugged.

“I wasn’t thrilled about it,” I admitted, and he frowned.

“Why, though?”

This was where it got complicated, because I wasn’t entirely sure myself why it had bothered me so much. “I don’t know. She’s just so beautiful, and the two of you have so much in common, I…” I felt the heat creep up my neck to my face. “It just…it bothered me to think that the two of you had been here, maybe in a similar situation to the one we’re in, and maybe she got you to open up to her in a way no one else had been able to do. I hated the thought that the two of you are perfect for each other and that…that things happened, and that she likely knew you better than I ever would.”

By now, my cheeks were flaming. I had torn my gaze from his to stare instead at the fire, watching the flames like they were the only things holding me down. I had opened my big mouth, and now there was no going back. I felt embarrassed, pathetic and vulnerable, and part of me wished the flames would swallow me whole.

“That’s…a lot to unpack,” Bucky finally exhaled, and I buried my face in my hands.

“I’m sorry,” I groaned. “I shouldn’t have said anything…”

“The only thing you have to be sorry for, doll, is thinking that I would, in _any_ scenario, choose Natasha over you.”

I froze, and then peeked through my fingers at him cautiously. He was watching me intensely, and I swallowed hard as I removed my hands from my face.

“What are you saying?” I asked quietly, and Bucky chuckled.

“I’m saying that, just as I’ve told everyone a thousand times before, Natasha is not my type. We’re almost too similar, in the wrong ways.” He shook his head. “I told you this morning that you had no reason to be jealous of her, doll. I meant it.”

My voice was small. “I had no _right_ to be jealous,” I whispered. “It’s not like I expected anything to happen between you and I.”

“No?” Bucky had shifted his body to face me, and now he was looking at me with the same unreadable expression I’d seen on his face twice the day before. His flesh hand reached out to tug gently at the sleeve of my shirt – _his_ shirt – as he wet his lips and looked back up to meet my eyes. “So you’re telling me,” he murmured, “that you have _no idea_ what you’re doing to me, walking around here wearing my shirt?”

I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth. Bucky’s eyes were hooded, and I felt my whole body heating under his gaze. I swallowed before speaking.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” I breathed, voice barely above a whisper, and he shook his head.

“What did I tell you about apologizing, doll?” he told me. “I’m not mad. How can I be mad when you wear that shirt better than I ever could? It’s almost sinful, what it does to me, seeing you wearing my clothes.”

“So is that why you gave me the shirt in the first place?” I asked, feeling suddenly bold. Bucky’s eyes glittered.

“I gave it to you because you were turning into a popsicle and I knew my body heat would be trapped in the fabric and it would warm you up faster,” he replied with a chuckle. “In the moment, my thoughts had been about making you comfortable. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I’d let anything happen to you.”

My insides melted. “Did that concern for me come as concern for a teammate, or a friend…?” I asked. “Or…?”

“Or,” Bucky agreed, his own cheeks pink now. “Something else. Something _more_. Something I hadn’t been able to explain for weeks now, until the second I saw you with my shirt on.”

My brow furrowed. “Weeks?”

This time he ducked his head. “Remember that mission in São Paulo a few weeks ago?” he asked, and I nodded.

“The one where I jumped onto that school bus to save those kids?” I asked, and Bucky frowned.

“You mean the one where you almost _died_?”

“If I didn’t do something those _kids_ would have died –”

“(Y/N), you were on a third-storey balcony and you jumped onto a moving bus whose hood was entirely engulfed in flames…” Bucky shook his head. “That’s not the point. The point is that when I saw you jump onto that bus, I swear to god my heart stopped. I mean, there’s the concern you feel for your teammates when they’re in a dangerous situation. But then there’s the heart-wrenching fear you get when you’re about to watch someone you care about get seriously hurt or even die. And when that thought crossed my mind, (Y/N) – the thought that I was about to lose _you_ – I’d never felt more terrified for someone else in my entire life. And I couldn’t understand at the time why it mattered so much to me, but now…Now I get it.”

For a few seconds, the air hung heavy as neither of us spoke. The only sounds in the cabin were the howling of the wind outside, the crackling of the fire in the hearth, and our shallow and ragged breaths. I realized that my body had slowly, subconsciously gravitated closer to Bucky’s; our knees touched, and my hand was resting on his thigh. My eyes caught the way his gaze lingered on my lips before flicking up to meet mine, and before I could talk myself out of it, I was sitting up and capturing Bucky’s lips with mine.

There was no resistance as his soft lips moved against mine, hands on my waist to pull me into his lap. My legs straddled his hips, and my arms circled around his neck as his hands held tight to my waist. My tongue teased his bottom lip and his mouth yielded to mine, allowing me to explore the kiss deeper as his hands roamed across my back and pulled me closer to him. His lips broke from mine to trail down my jaw to my throat, where he nipped teasingly at the sensitive flesh. I tilted my head back to allow him better access, and as his mouth nipped and sucked at my throat, no doubt leaving his mark on me, his hands had slipped under the hem of his Henley to knead at my flesh. I let out a soft groan, and felt him grin against my neck.

“Y’know, doll,” he murmured, lifting his head to nip lightly at my earlobe, “as much as I like seeing you wearing my shirt, I think I’d like it even more if I got to take it off of you.”

I shivered, and then I was lifting my arms so Bucky could slowly tug the shirt over my head, revealing that I wasn’t wearing a bra. His gaze fell to my chest, eyes dark as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. I should have felt exposed, but the hunger with which he was regarding me with only had me dizzy with desire. He took his time admiring me, hands slowly roaming my curves, but avoiding my breasts purposely.

“God, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmured, voice husky, and I took his face in my hands and pulled his mouth back to mine in a fierce kiss. My fingers ran through his hair and he sighed into my mouth, flesh hand sliding down my back to give my ass a playful squeeze. I squealed and he grinned wolfishly.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” he chuckled, and my body trembled in anticipation. When he leaned in to take one of my nipples into his mouth and suck lightly, I keened, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Bucky…” I whined, and he peppered soft kisses across my chest.

“Yeah, doll?” he murmured, hands massaging my hips as his mouth tended to my breasts. I let out a huff, trying to compose myself enough to speak. His touch already had me hazy, though, and it was difficult to form words.

“Too many clothes,” I finally managed to mumble, and he took the hint as he leaned back enough to yank the t-shirt over his head. My eyes dropped to his bare chest, and then my fingertips were tracing the dips and planes of his hard muscles. I could feel those muscles contracting under my touch, and when I reached his shoulder where metal met flesh I hesitated. Bucky scowled.

“It’s not pretty, I know,” he mumbled, and I pursed my lips. I pressed a quick kiss to his mouth before letting my lips ghost over the puckered skin on his shoulder. Bucky inhaled sharply, and when I reached down to thread my fingers through his vibranium ones and lift his hand to kiss his knuckles, he watched me with burning eyes and a slack jaw.

“There isn’t a single thing about you that could make me want you any less, Bucky Barnes,” I whispered, and then his free hand was cupping the back of my neck and pulling my mouth back to his. The kiss was slow, tender and deep, and I hugged my body tighter to his in an effort to be closer to him. In doing so, it put me in a position to feel the bulge in the front of Bucky’s sweatpants. I rocked my hips against his experimentally with the tiniest of whimpers when I was rewarded with the friction I craved, and Bucky’s breath hitched.

“Doll…” he rasped, hands tightening on my waist. I pulled back to meet his gaze with hooded eyes.

“Please…” I begged softly. “Bucky, please.”

I was fully aware of how desperate I sounded, but it was a shameless awareness. The need to feel his touch ran so deep it was practically an ache – An ache I desperately needed him to soothe. His eyes were black pools of lust as he looked at me, licking his lips as he contemplated his next move carefully.

“So needy, baby girl,” he murmured, fingertips teasing as they skimmed across my bare flesh. I shuddered and he grinned lazily. “God, the things I wanna do to you…You want me to touch you, doll?”

I nodded, unable to speak. Bucky’s eyes sparkled.

“Gonna take real good care of you, sweetheart, I promise. Gonna show you how a real man treats a woman as incredible as you.” He kissed the valley between my breasts, hands playing with the waistband of my sweatpants. I was on fire, between his words and his touch, and I was spiralling into a daze that I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to leave. “Is that what you want, doll?” Bucky murmured. “You want me to take care of that ache for you?”

I whimpered; was it that obvious I was aching for him? I could only nod meekly, but Bucky shook his head.

“Words, doll,” he said, gentle but firm. “I’m not doing a thing until I hear you say it.” 

His voice was still husky, but his eyes were suddenly cautious, as if he wasn’t sure I actually wanted this. I frowned, in disbelief that even now he was letting his insecurities convince him he wasn’t the only thing in the world I wanted. I took his face firmly between my hands and held his gaze to mine.

“I want you to claim me as yours,” I whispered, “so that when anyone sees the two of us together, they know I belong to you and only you. I want you to fuck me so good that I can still feel you even after we’ve gotten back to New York.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened until just the thinnest ring of blue remained around his pupils. “Oh, _fuck_ ,” he choked out, and then he was laying me down as his mouth claimed mine in a searing kiss. The blanket was soft on the skin of my back, protecting against the chill of the hardwood underneath, but I wouldn’t care if I was laying outside in the snow if it meant Bucky would touch me.

His hands slowly – _agonizingly_ – dragged the sweatpants from my hips. I let out a huff of frustration and he chuckled.

“Patience, darlin’,” he breathed. “I wanna take my time with you, but I promise I’ll make it all worth it.”

Bucky kissed his way up the inside of my leg and then down the other, purposely ignoring where I needed him the most. When his hands finally pushed my legs apart at the knees to expose me, I was a mess, biting my lip with my chest heaving. His eyes raked over my core hungrily before flashing up to my face.

“Fucking hell,” he rasped. “Look at you, doll; you’re dripping like honey.”

“All for you, Buck,” I said, breathless. “This is what you do to me.”

Bucky groaned, and then his fingers swiped through my folds. I gasped at the sudden contact, back arching off the floor, and the grin that stretched across his face was pure sin. Pulling my legs over his shoulders, he wrapped his arms loosely around my thighs and then licked a clean stripe up my slit. I cried out, back arching again, and his arms tugged my hips back down gently.

“Good girl,” he murmured, before his mouth went back to work. His tongue explored my folds, and then dipped into my entrance to gather my juices. I squeezed my eyes shut, hands fisting into the soft fur of the blanket beneath me as electricity buzzed through every nerve in my body. “Sweet as candy,” Bucky murmured into my flesh, and I keened.

When his lips wrapped around my clit and sucked, my hips bucked and I writhed in Bucky’s grasp. He let me shamelessly grind against his face for a few moments, but then his arms were firm as they pushed my hips back down to the blanket and held them there. His mouth continued its assault on my core, licking and sucking and nibbling until my chest was flushed and I was reduced to incoherent moans and whimpers. With my hips locked into place, I had to use my hands to direct his mouth. My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging on the dark locks to hold his face to me, and Bucky groaned into me, sending vibrations through my core that had a fresh wave of heat crash through me. I tugged harder, nails scraping his scalp, and he growled.

“Oh, you’re asking for it now,” he said in a low voice, and then he was teasing my entrance with not one, but two fingers. He pushed them into me slowly, watching my face for my reaction, and I moaned obscenely as he curled them and his knuckles brushed my walls. With a triumphant smirk, Bucky’s lips reattached to my clit as his thick fingers pumped in and out of me at an excruciatingly slow pace. My breaths were coming out in sharp rasps as I felt the coil in my belly tighten, teetering oh-so-close to the edge.

Bucky must have been able to tell I was close, because he added a third finger and grazed my clit lightly with his teeth. I cried out his name as he pushed me over the edge, eyes squeezed shut and hands curling into fists in his hair. He pulled out his fingers and helped me ride out my high with gentle licks and soft kisses, and when my body finally relaxed, boneless, against the blanket, he kissed his way up my body to press his lips to mine.

I tasted myself on his tongue, and I hummed delightedly. Bucky grinned into the kiss and nipped at my bottom lip playfully.

“I have never seen something more beautiful than you when you come undone, doll, fuck,” he breathed. “If I died right now, I would die a happy man.”

I giggled and pinched his side teasingly. “We’re not done yet,” I told him wryly, and then my hands were shoving Bucky’s sweatpants off his hips. He kicked them off impatiently, and my hand immediately wrapped around him. He grunted, and I felt the heat pool in my belly as I let out a soft whine – He was thick and hot and impossibly hard in my grip, and my walls were already clenching in anticipation.

I began to slide my hand up and down his shaft, and a low hiss escaped Bucky’s lips as his eyes fluttered shut. I tried to push him off me so I could trade my hand for my mouth, but Bucky shook his head.

“No,” he said gruffly, and my brow furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

I must have had a hurt look on my face, because his eyes widened and he was quick to press a tender kiss to my lips. “Oh, baby girl, no, it’s not like that,” he said quickly. “I would _love_ to know how your mouth feels, trust me, but right now, my god, I need to be inside you so badly it hurts.”

“ _Oh_ …” I breathed, biting my lip. Bucky’s hand replaced mine on his length and he lined himself up with my entrance, teasing it with the tip. My breath hitched, and he looked at me imploringly.

“You sure about this?” he murmured, and instead of answering I rocked my hips against his, allowing him to slip fully inside me in one smooth stroke.

Bucky’s eyes rounded; I had surprised him. They quickly darkened as he let out a low groan, and I bit my lip, letting out a whine as he stretched me better than I’d ever been stretched before. Bucky held still for a moment, giving me time to adjust to his size and him time to compose himself.

I tilted my head up, lips searching for his, and he dipped his head to oblige me. When we broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine, breath hot against my face.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” he murmured.

“I’m ready,” I replied without hesitation. “Please, Buck…”

With a strangled groan, Bucky slowly slid out of me before pushing back in. I drew a shuddering breath, relishing in how full I felt with him inside me. The pace he set was languid and unhurried, and despite having been so desperate to feel him, now that we were joined, I was more than happy with slowing things down. There was no need to rush – We weren’t leaving the cabin anytime soon, which meant we had plenty of time to learn every inch of each other’s bodies.

Every languorous stroke was well-placed, hitting me in all the right spots until I was whimpering and entirely at Bucky’s mercy. I quickly came to the conclusion, though, that Bucky was just as much at my mercy as I was at his; I could feel it in every tender touch, kiss and thrust that he was all in – That this was more than just fuelled by desire. It had been a long time since someone had been so attentive to my body and my feelings, it made my heart swell.

“Look at me,” Bucky suddenly whispered. “Look at me, doll.”

I hadn’t even realized my eyes had been closed, and I blinked them open, only to have my breath catch in my throat. Bucky’s face hovered above mine, his eyes fixed on mine. I could see the fire dancing in his irises, casting golden streaks through the pools of blue; he had never been more breathtaking than he was right now. It wasn’t the colours in his eyes that had taken my breath away, though; it was the expression they held. Bucky, normally so closed-off and hard to read, was an entirely open book. His eyes held everything that his mouth couldn’t say – Trust, happiness, reverence, adoration…There was even something else there, something I dared not even put into thought for fear of ruining if before it could even begin. He was completely vulnerable, vulnerable for _me_ , and I knew how big of a deal that was for him. With a lump in my throat and my heart fluttering wildly against my ribcage, I lifted a hand to brush my fingertips across his lips.

“James…” I said breathlessly. The use of his real name had him groaning softly, and then he was dipping his head to kiss me deeply. He snapped his hips into mine, still at the same slow pace, but with more force behind the strokes now. A breathy whine escaped my lips and Bucky pressed his forehead to mine, chest heaving as he fought to even his breathing.

“Eyes on me, doll,” he panted, rolling his hips into mine and earning another wanton moan. “I want to see you when you come apart around me.”

“ _Fuck_ …” I whimpered, forcing my eyes to remain open despite it being so natural for them to drift shut as the coil in my belly tightened. Bucky’s gaze was piercing, hungry, and unabashedly intimate as he fucked into me, slow and hard and so unbelievably good that the rest of the world – the storm still roaring outside, the knowledge that HYDRA was probably out there looking for us, our teammates back home planning to rescue us – melted away until it was just him and I, our bodies joined in the most profound and visceral way, energy buzzing from his body to mine and back again until it was impossible to tell where he ended and I began.

I reached my climax only seconds before Bucky did, brows knitting together as I struggled to keep my eyes on him, lips parted as I gasped sharply. Bucky’s eyes clouded over with pure, unadulterated desire, and then his hips stuttered and he was spilling into me with a groan that rumbled deep in his chest, his expression one of absolute bliss. His mouth found mine as we rode out our highs; the kiss was sloppy and lazy, both of us absolutely spent, but it was also sweet and tender. Bucky’s nose bumped mine affectionately, and then he was dipping his head to press his face to the juncture between my neck and shoulder.

My fingers carded idly through his damp hair for a handful of seconds, and he hummed contentedly. Then his arms circled under me and he rolled us over so he was on his back and I was sprawled across his chest, our legs tangled together and his softening member still inside me.

Neither of us said anything, but we didn’t have to; our bodies had already said everything that needed to be said. The wind still wailed outside, but the fire kept the cabin cozy, and the flames from the hearth and the candles bathed the room in a warm, golden glow. Bucky’s hand brushed through my hair before his fingertips swept down the naked expanse of my body, raising goosebumps on my flushed skin. I turned my head to press my lips to his heated chest, burying myself further in his embrace, and in this moment – skin-to-skin, curled up on a soft blanket by a crackling fire – I was more grateful than I ever thought I could be for a plane crash in the mountains in Austria.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Bucky aren't quite ready to return to reality after the storm subsides.

I woke up the next morning still curled up against Bucky’s side. Sometime through the night he had pulled down a blanket from the armchair to cover us, and despite the fire having burned down to just embers I was pleasantly warm. I stretched my body, easing the kinks and sore muscles, a quiet groan passing my lips. I felt something hot and hard twitch against my thigh, and then strong arms were pulling me up to straddle Bucky’s hips. His eyes still held traces of sleep, but they sparkled nonetheless as his lips quirked up mischievously. 

I ground my hips against his, heated core running over his already-hard length, and his hands tightened on my hips as he growled. He lifted me enough to slip into me before lowering me back down so that he was fully sheathed inside me. We both hissed, my hands falling to his chest to brace myself as I once again adjusted to his size – From this angle I swear I felt even more full.

Bucky only gave me a few seconds to adjust this time before his hands started rocking my hips against him. Taking the hint, I took over, rolling my hips teasingly before setting my hands on his chest as leverage to bounce myself up and down on his length. He grunted, eyes darkening, and then his hands were lifting to paw at my breasts as I continued to ride him.

After a couple of minutes, Bucky bent his legs at the knees and pulled my mouth down to his to capture my lips in a searing kiss as I rested against his thighs. He took over the movements, thrusting his hips up into me, alternating between fast and shallow and slow and deep. I whimpered, body falling forward onto his, and his arms wrapped around me as he continued to drive into me. I pressed my face to his neck, kissing and sucking and nibbling at the sensitive flesh until his breaths came out as sharp as mine.

With one particularly hard thrust I came, biting down on Bucky’s shoulder as I groaned. He growled and then I felt his hot release coat my insides. He held me tight to him for a minute before pressing a few soft kisses to my shoulder. I tiredly lifted my head to see him grinning lazily at me.

“Good morning,” he chuckled, and I smirked.

“Yes, it is. The only thing that would make it better is a hot coffee.”

Bucky cocked a dark eyebrow. “You tryin’ to tell me something, doll?”

“Well…” I said slyly. “I’d make it myself, but I honestly don’t know if I can walk right now.”

Eyes darkening, Bucky’s tongue darted out to wet his lips before a slow smirk spread across his face. He rolled me over so his body hovered over mine, nose skimming along my jaw. “Well then, in that case I don’t mind getting the coffee ready,” he murmured, and then he was getting up. I watched the muscles of his backside ripple as he bent down to grab his sweatpants, and I bit my lip.

“You’re staring, doll,” he said, without having to turn around, as he pulled the sweats up his legs and over his hips. I grinned.

“I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t put those back on,” I teased.

Bucky turned around, eyes glittering. “I’ll leave the shirt off,” he promised as he went to stoke the fire. I sat up, pulling the blanket up around my chest as I smoothed a hand over my unruly hair. I watched as Bucky brought the fire back to a low roar before heading to the kitchen to fill the kettle with some of the bottled water. Sighing, I got up and found Bucky’s discarded Henley, pulling it over my head and quickly slipping down the hall to the bathroom. When I came back Bucky was at the counter with his back to me, filling our mugs with the instant coffee powder. I came up behind him to wrap my arms around him, pressing a few soft kisses to the skin between his shoulder blades.

He hummed, and then turned around in my arms. His eyes raked down my body and narrowed, tongue wetting his lips. “Shit, doll,” he groaned. “I already thought you couldn’t look any better in that shirt, but seeing you wear it and absolutely nothing else…”

Bucky’s hands slid down my back to bunch the hem of the Henley in his fists, exposing my backside. “I should take you right here for torturin’ me like this, doll,” he said in a low voice, and I bit my lip as I looked up at him with my best doe eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sarge,” I said innocently, and Bucky growled, hands squeezing my ass as he spun me around to press me against the counter. He slid a knee between my thighs to spread my legs, and he was just about to slip his flesh hand underneath the hem of the shirt when the kettle started to boil, piercingly loud in the heavy silence. I jumped, startled out of the haze I’d been in, and Bucky reluctantly pulled away from me to get the kettle and bring it to the kitchen to fill the mugs.

The moment was over, and I padded over to the window to assess the situation outside. It looked as if the snow had let up into light flurries, and the wind had died down, but the cabin was half-buried in drifted snow. I turned to Bucky as he handed me my coffee.

“We’ll have to dig our way out,” I told him, and he shrugged.

“Won’t take long. It’s just the door that really needs to be shovelled out.”

“Good thing I have a big, strong supersoldier with me to do that for me.”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. “Is that all I am to you?” he asked, feigning a hurt expression. “The guy that does all the heavy lifting while you sit back looking pretty?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I teased. “Did you want to be the pretty one, sweetheart?”

“Maybe I did.”

I laughed, and turned to pull his lips down to mine. The kiss was soft and sweet. “You’ll always be the prettiest one,” I murmured, “at least to me.”

Bucky’s cheeks tinted pink, but then he was tugging me towards the couch to fold me into his side as we finished our coffee.

“When do you think the team will be here?” I asked after awhile. We were still on the couch, Bucky’s back against the armrest and my back against his chest, situated between his legs. His chin rested on the crown of my head, and his metal fingertips swept lazily up and down my arm as my hands idly played with the fingers of his flesh hand.

“I don’t know,” he finally said, “but I can’t imagine they’ll wait too long now that the storm has stopped. I should probably shovel out the door soon so we’re ready when they come.”

I pouted, lacing my fingers through his. “I don’t want to leave,” I mumbled, and his body shook against mine as he chuckled.

“Two days ago, you were begging Steve to come get us,” he pointed out, “and now you want to stay?”

“Two days ago was a long time ago,” I replied. “A lot has happened since then.”

Bucky laughed, pressing a kiss to my head. What I hadn’t said, though, was that I was scared of what would happen once we left the cabin and returned to New York. Here, things were easy – We were isolated from the rest of the world. Our responsibilities, our teammates, the media; none of that mattered. Here, we were free to do what we wanted with no consequences.

But back in New York…Getting involved with a team member complicated things. Not only would we have to answer a million questions from our teammates, but since the Avengers were such public figures, the relationship would be impossible to keep private. Not to mention the liability it created on missions.

My heart sunk, and I wished more and more that the blizzard had lasted just a little longer.

“Well, I suppose,” Bucky sighed after a few minutes, nudging me up. “I should get dressed and go shovel some snow.”

Reluctantly, we dragged ourselves off the couch and to the bedroom to get properly dressed. As Bucky slid on his boots, I leaned against the counter with my arms folded across my chest.

“Sure you don’t wanna come out with me, doll?” he teased, and the corners of my lips twitched.

“I’ll pass. You know how I feel about the cold.”

Bucky grinned as he shrugged on his jacket. “Aw, c’mon, I won’t make you do any of the shovelling,” he promised. “You can just come out and watch me work my ass off so we can get out of here.”

“ _Work your ass off_ ,” I snorted. “Please, maybe if you were a normal person it’d be hard, but you’ll have that cleared in no time, Mr. Supersoldier.” I shrugged. “Besides, I don’t have to go outside to watch you; you have to shovel your way out the damn door first.”

Sure enough, when Bucky opened the door, he was met with a wall of snow. “Suit yourself,” he said as he grabbed the shovel. “I won’t be long.”

He shovelled out the doorway in five minutes, and then went out to clear a small path. I bit my lip, and with a sigh I slipped on my boots and grabbed a jacket from the hooks by the door. When I got outside, Bucky was cleaning the snow off the kitchen window. He looked up when he heard me coming, a grin spreading across his face.

“Decided to come out after all?”

“I couldn’t pass up the chance to see Bucky Barnes do something as mundane and domestic as shovel snow,” I teased, and he laughed.

“Hey, I’ve been pretty domestic since we got here,” he replied. “I’ve kept a fire going, cooked, made coffee…” His lips curved into a lopsided grin. “That’s husband material right there, isn’t it?”

I choked on the air I’d breathed in, eyes widening. My heart hammered against my ribcage. “What?” I managed to get out, and he shrugged.

“Y’know, like that meme about being boyfriend material?” he said. “But this would be more husband material, because it’s so domestic.”

“ _Oh_.” It was a joke. He was joking. My heart rate slowed back down to normal as I realized he hadn’t been suggesting what I thought he was, and I shook my head, fixing a playful grin on my face despite still feeling lightheaded. “Since when do you know enough about what a meme is to reference them?” I teased, and Bucky squared his shoulders.

“I may be an old man, but I keep up with the culture,” he told me, and I laughed.

“The image I have in my head right now of the Winter Soldier scrolling through the internet looking at memes is _priceless_.”

“Oh, shut up,” Bucky grumbled, though his eyes sparkled.

“No, really,” I insisted. “What’s next, are you gonna start listening to Cardi B and Post Malone? Or start dressing like the ‘kids these days’?”

I put air quotes around “kids these days,” and Bucky’s eyes narrowed.

“Watch it, doll,” he warned devilishly.

“Or what?” I replied. “What are you gonna do, old man? Bore me to death with a story about the Great Depression?”

I was only teasing him, and he knew it; his wicked grin said so. “Alright, that’s it,” he decided, and then he was grabbing me under the knees and lifting me to swing me over his shoulder. I shrieked, hitting my fists against his back.

“Bucky, put me down!” I cried. His hand came up to pinch my ass and I squeaked.

“No can do, sweetheart,” he said to me. “I warned you.”

I squirmed, but he only held tighter. When I realized what he planned on doing my eyes widened, and I squirmed harder as my fists pounded against his back. “Bucky, no,” I warned. “Bucky… _James_ , stop!”

He didn’t listen, tossing me into one of the snow drifts out in the yard. I shrieked as I hit the snow, sinking deep into it. It was cold and powdery, at least, rather than wet and packy, but I still glowered as I pulled myself up to my feet.

“Oh, you are _dead_ ,” I said in a low voice, and Bucky only grinned before tossing a handful of snow at my chest. I lunged forward, but he was quicker and he caught me around the waist, spinning me around before dramatically falling backwards into the snow, me on top of him. Grinning mischievously, I grabbed a handful of snow and smushed it in his face.

“Oof,” he grunted, scrunching his nose and squeezing his eyes shut, and then he was rolling over so I was the one pressed to the snow. It was cold underneath me and I wiggled, hoping he’d let me up. “That was dirty, (Y/N),” he said with a pout, and I couldn’t help but giggle at the snow clinging to his eyebrows and eyelashes.

“No one ever said I played nice,” I teased, and the muscle in Bucky’s jaw twitched. He made no move to get up, and it was my turn to pout. “Buck, I’m freezing,” I whined, and he smirked.

“Maybe you shoulda been nicer.”

I arched a brow. “Is that really what you want, though?”

His blue eyes glinted, but he didn’t say anything, instead running a hand through his hair roughly to get the snow out of it. The snowflakes fell onto my face, cold and wet, and I scrunched my nose as I turned my head to the side.

“Bucky!” I breathed. “Please, I surrender, I’m so cold.”

Bucky’s smile was honey as he got up and pulled me up with him. “Let’s go back inside, then,” he murmured, “and I promise to warm you up real good.”

I shivered, but this time it wasn’t from the cold. I let him tug me back into the cabin, where he started peeling off my wet clothes as soon as he’d shut the door behind us. He frowned as the fingertips of his flesh hand traced down the curve of my waist and over my hip.

“Shit, you _are_ cold,” he breathed. I shook my head, clawing at his own clothes to get him as naked as I was.

“It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled as I freed him of his shirt. “You promised to warm me up, that’s all that matters.”

With a growl, Bucky discarded the rest of his clothes in a pile on the doormat, and then he held his arms open and I jumped, my arms winding around his neck and my legs locking around his waist as he secured his hands under my thighs. My lips found his, and I kissed him hungrily as he carried me through the cabin to the bedroom. He tossed me playfully onto the bed and I squealed as I bounced back into the pillows, and then he was crawling up the bed to cover my body with his, claiming my mouth in another kiss.

He kissed me deeply as his flesh hand snaked down my body to press against my core. I moaned into his mouth as he rubbed circles against my clit before dipping two fingers into me. He pumped them in and out at a steady pace, his thumb finding my clit and pressing against it. His lips travelled down my jaw to my throat, where he sucked lightly at my pulse point until my back arched off the mattress in a soft moan, pleasure taking over as the sensations became too much.

“Good girl,” Bucky murmured as his hand slowed to a stop and his lips returned to mine. I barely had time to register the loss of his fingers inside me before he was burying his length in me. I gasped and he let out a guttural groan as my still-sensitive walls clenched around him.

This time, there was nothing slow about the way Bucky rolled his hips into mine. It was hard and fast, desperate and hungry, and it didn’t take long before my skin was flushed and a thin sheen of sweat had beaded on my flesh. The room was filled with the sounds of grunts, gasps and moans, and the sinful sound of flesh on flesh. Bucky lifted one of my legs over his shoulder to change the angle and I exhaled sharply, hands fisting in the bedsheets.

It didn’t take long for either of us to reach our climax; we came simultaneously, my walls clenching around Bucky at the same time that he spilled inside me. He threw his head back with a deep groan and I keened as he continued with slow, shallow thrusts until we’d ridden it out.

We stayed in bed for awhile after, not saying anything and just holding each other. We both knew this was coming to an end, and we wanted to drag it out as long as we could. Eventually, though, we knew it was only a matter of time before Steve and the others got here, and we reluctantly got out of bed.

“I should check your stitches one last time,” Bucky murmured, and I sat on the edge of the bed as he delicately unwrapped the bandage. He lifted my arm to examine it more closely, and when he was satisfied it was healing, he put a fresh bandage on. “Good to go,” he said, and I gave him a soft smile.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime you need me to poke you with a needle, doll, I’ve got you.”

I wanted to make a joke, but the lump in my throat made it impossible to do anything but nod. I stood, pulling my jumpsuit back on, not wanting to take any clothing that wasn’t mine. I picked up Bucky’s Henley off the floor and held it out to him.

“Here,” I said, and he shook his head.

“You keep it,” he murmured, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

My heart fluttered, and I pulled it over my head. This time Bucky’s smile was wide as he pulled his sweater on.

We cleaned up the cabin as best we could, leaving behind virtually no trace of what had taken place here the past couple of days. When everything was back in place, there was nothing left to do but sit and wait. We curled up on the couch, and Bucky’s hand smoothed out my hair.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, doll,” he suggested softly. “You’re exhausted; I can tell. I’ll wake you up when they get here.”

I wanted to protest, to stay awake and enjoy the last little bit of time we had here together, but Bucky was warm and I was comfortable and the soft rise and fall of his chest lulled my tired body to sleep faster than I could muster the energy to argue.

A gentle hand shook my shoulder. “(Y/N), wake up,” Bucky murmured. “They’re here.”

I groaned and sat up in time to hear the rumble of snowmobiles outside. Bucky took my hand and pulled me up off the couch, and he put the fire out as I laced up my boots. He tossed me his jacket.

“You’ll freeze without it,” he said before I could protest, and I nodded as I pulled it over my shoulders and zipped it up.

There were two snowmobiles outside when Bucky opened the door; Steve was on one and Natasha on the other. Steve’s face flooded with relief when he saw that we were both okay.

“Thank god,” he breathed. “Come on. Tony and Sam are waiting back at the quinjet, but we have to get out of here before HYDRA realizes we’ve come.”

“Hop on, soldier,” Nat said to Bucky, and I frowned. He looked between her and me and shook his head.

“You ride with Steve,” he said. “I’ll take (Y/N) on this one.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed. “Why does it matter –”

“Just do it.” Bucky’s voice was firm, and Natasha grumbled as she got off the snowmobile and climbed on behind Steve, whose brow was furrowed in confusion. Bucky got onto the snowmobile and motioned for me to get on behind him. I did, securing my arms around his waist.

“Are we good?” Steve asked, and everyone nodded. He took off, and Bucky looked at me over his shoulder.

“Hold on tight, doll,” he said, and in response my arms tightened around him. He grinned, and then revved the engine before following Steve.

The air was bitingly cold as it whipped across my cheeks, and I buried my face against Bucky’s back. I was grateful that he’d given me his jacket; I would have frozen otherwise. The trip to the quinjet was fairly quick; as soon as we approached, a ramp lowered to drive the machines onto the jet. Once inside, I released Bucky and slid stiffly off the snowmobile. Tony and Sam appeared.

“Oh, good, you’re safe,” Tony said. “Now are we ready to go?”

Steve nodded. “Yes, let’s get out of here.”

Everyone headed to the front of the jet, and Bucky and I followed. We buckled in for takeoff, and then Tony had us in the air and on our way back to New York.

Once the quinjet was in the air and we no longer had to stay buckled in, Bucky got up and headed to the back of the jet. I frowned, and then got up and followed. I found him grabbing a bottle of water from the little fridge.

“(Y/N), hey,” he said, surprised. I bit my lip.

“Can we talk?” I asked hesitantly, and he nodded.

“Of course. Yeah. What’s up?”

I hesitated, but I had to know so I pushed myself to speak. “Look, I don’t want to be that girl,” I started, “but…things happened back at that cabin, and now that we’re going back to New York, and back to reality…” I swallowed hard. “Where do we go from here, Buck?”

Bucky was silent for a moment, and I feared I’d made a fool of myself. But then he set his water bottle down and took my face between his hands, backing me against the wall out of view of any lurking eyes, and kissed me dizzy. When he pulled away, his thumbs brushed over my cheekbones.

“Don’t you remember what I said about São Paulo?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Yes, but –”

“But nothing. (Y/N), I have feelings for you. If that story about São Paulo didn’t make that clear, then I would at least hope my actions at the cabin did.” His eyes sparkled. “And if _that_ wasn’t enough, then I’ll say it now; (Y/N), I want to be with you.”

I bit my lip. My heart was full, but I shook my head. “What do we tell the team…?”

“Nothing, right now, if you don’t want to,” he said with a shake of his head. “We can tell them, or we can just keep it between ourselves right now. It’s entirely up to you.”

I was beaming, I was so happy. I knew we would have to tell the team eventually, but right now I liked the idea of keeping Bucky to myself.

“I’m not ready to share you yet,” I admitted, and he grinned.

“I’m alright with that. But that just leaves one more question, then.”

My brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

He grinned mischievously. “Which one of us is sneaking the other one into their room tonight?”


End file.
